


the sweetest of secrets

by Archadian_Skies



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Episode Ignis Verse 2, M/M, Secret Crush, World of Ruin, especially not luna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 06:33:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17381432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archadian_Skies/pseuds/Archadian_Skies
Summary: They are two years into the unending night and he is eight months into his stay in Tenebrae. With no Lucian King to advise, he has turned to the other living monarchy whilst Noctis slumbers in the Crystal.Fleurentia tumblr prompt: 'Things only you know about me'





	the sweetest of secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ingu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ingu/gifts).



They are two years into the unending night and he is eight months into his stay in Tenebrae. With no Lucian King to advise, he has turned to the other living monarchy whilst Noctis slumbers in the Crystal.

The Oracle, tireless in her Holy Duty, spends her time guiding evacuation efforts and keeping the daemons at bay. With no Lucian King to shield, Gladiolus has taken it upon himself to shield Tenebrae’s Queen instead, protecting her on their journey. As for Prompto, the youngest of their crew, he spends his time at Lestallum on supply runs and hunts.  

Which leaves Tenebrae under the stewardship of Prince Ravus Nox Fleuret, with Ignis guiding him in a role he never prepared for. Ravus was always destined to be a military man; though firstborn of Oracle Sylva the matrilineal Monarchy meant Ravus would never have been crowned King, for Tenebrae had never recognised men for the throne. The blood of the Oracle burned brightest in its princesses, after all.

So it’s almost comical that Ravus is given the task of leading his people, a task Ignis does not mind assisting with. Their time is consumed with balancing the ever growing influx of refugees fleeing from Niflheim and the dwindling resources of the country. They’ve butted heads often, but Ignis is used to squabbling with royals.

He’s given lodging on the floor below the Royal Suites, and there’s a large office adjoining his room where he and Ravus spend whatever time isn’t lost to the throne room. There’s always work to do, always another document to review and sign and the serving staff flitter into the office every now and then to keep them fed and watered. 

The country’s lush, green, mountainous area means it’s the ideal location to grow tea and indeed the Manor’s kitchen boasts a generous tea cabinet. The Lucians prefer their coffees and the Tenebraeans prefer their teas, something which Ignis finds himself growing accustomed to. That and ferrying instant Ebony ground coffee is quite low on the priority list.

One unremarkable day (or night?) they had been served a lovely green tea lightly sweetened with dried Ulwaat berries. It became Ignis’ favourite, though they haven’t served it since. 

It’s with that in mind that makes Ignis venture down into the belly of the Manor to the kitchens in search of the elusive tea. The hour is quiet and he knows the kitchens will be empty, the staff absent and unaware of his foraging. 

The kitchens are not empty as predicted, and Ignis blinks in surprise.

“...Scientia.” Ravus nods tersely after a moment’s silence.

“Sire.” Ignis greets politely with a bow. 

Another stretch of silence yawns between them and Ignis cannot help but stare at the High Commander wearing an apron over a soft blouse and tunic, standing at the stovetop stirring something diligently.

“...I was just about to make myself tea.” Ignis explains to break the silence. Ravus nods.

“...yes, please go ahead.” He passes him by on the way to the tea cabinet, and Ignis identifies the contents of the pot as milk being brought to a simmer. On the benchtop is a bottle of soy milk, a spice shaker of cinnamon, a jar of honey and a canister of powdered cacao. Ah. He retrieves the green tea and dried Ulwaat berries from the tea cabinet before returning to the stove burners.

“You are not fond of tea?” He tries to make conversation as he sets about bringing the kettle to a boil and measuring out the tea leaves.

“I will drink it if it has been made for me.” Ravus pointedly concentrates on spooning honey into the simmering milk before tapping cinnamon into the mixture. “Though I prefer drinking chocolates to teas or coffees.”

Ignis can tell he’s uncomfortable at the admission, and finds himself a little tickled to be the one receiving it. They make their beverages in companionable silence, Ignis watching how carefully and how practiced Ravus manoeuvres himself. 

There’s no more daylight, but Fenestala Manor is lit by the protective Oracle’s Runes inlaid in its marble; the whole place seems to glow in sylleblossom hues. There’s something beautiful, something holy about it, Ignis notes as they return to the office carefully carrying their hot drinks. 

For a brief moment, right here right this instant, the world is just the size of the room and they sit within it with their secrets bared. To the general populace, Ravus Nox Fleuret is an imposing, cold military man solely focused on achieving his goal no matter the lives cut down in his wake. 

To Ignis, Ravus is a studious man uncomfortable under public scrutiny, ever faithful to his family, and always willing to grit his teeth and work through bad situations for the greater good; he’s not unlike a certain other royal Ignis knows. 

Tomorrow the High Commander will done his regalia and hold Court once again to argue with the new Parliament set up to cope with the changing political and environmental landscape. He will listen, he will speak, he will ask, he will refute, and he’ll drink tea prepared for him by the staff. But for now he’s just Ravus, a man with a sweet-tooth sneaking to the kitchens to make hot chocolate when no one is around to bear witness. Without the imposing whites and blacks of his regalia, or the intimidating Magitek armour overlay, the prince seems like an ordinary man enjoying a quiet moment in his study. Ignis finds himself rather endeared to this secret, softer side of Ravus.

A couple of days later Ignis wanders down to the kitchens during its quieter hours. When he finds Ravus there it’s no longer a surprise, but finding two cups of hot chocolate on the tray instead of one certainly is. 

“...I thought you might like to try some.” Ravus clears his throat and gestures at the cup. “My sister and I grew up drinking this and I find it helps lift one’s mood.” There’s an awkward pacing to his tone, as if he’s full of hesitation. The adolescence he was meant to have had been cut short, and instead of being schooled to grow into a prince, Ravus had been forced to grow into a soldier at breakneck speed. What use would there have been for Niflheim to give the broken prince social skills? But he’s trying, and Ignis is hit with the stark realisation Ravus didn’t really have friends to confide in. 

“Thank you, Ravus.” He drops the formalities as he picks up the other cup with a smile. “Shall we head back?”

The smile in return is brief, a fleeting expression swallowed up by nervousness a moment later but Ignis sees it and thinks it rivals the sweetness of these drinks.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm still on this hellsite](http://archadianskies.tumblr.com/)


End file.
